


Into the Sun

by EtherealInquisitor



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Brooding, F/M, Slow Burn, This is one of those fics I'll have to apologize for later, rated for later chapters, typical egg elf stuff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-09
Updated: 2018-04-07
Packaged: 2018-06-06 21:28:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6770809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EtherealInquisitor/pseuds/EtherealInquisitor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Orianna Trevelyan was the worst at reading men, and now it's come to her attention that she is even worse at ancient elvhen mating rituals. What is a girl to do when she's stuck between two brooding elves, especially when the one she really wants to spend time with is giving her whiplash with his constant mood swings?</p><p>Learn to play the game of elvhen mating rituals, of course. Just as long as she doesn't die of humiliation first.</p><p>~~~~~~<br/>This fic is my AU of how certain things happen, how they didn't happen, pretty much just how I headcanon everything. Settle down and strap in because it's going to be a bumpy ride.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

They were being followed.

No one said a word, but Orianna could see the tension between Bull’s shoulder, they way Varric flipped Bianca into his hands from where she had been settled on his back, and Solas’ grip tightened on his staff.

Try as she might, the Inquisitor couldn’t quite detect what the others were picking up. To her, it was merely a beautiful starry night in the Arbor Wilds, almost romantic with the chirping of the crickets and---

“DOWN!” Bull bellowed just as Solas tackled her to the ground, grunting as an arrow sliced his cheek and landed mere inches from Orianna’s face. A barrier flew up around them, and try as she might, Orianna couldn’t wiggle out from under the surprisingly strong elf pressing into her back. “Solas! Get up, I can he---” He pressed her face into the grass and hissed a “quiet” into her ear.

Varric and Bull prowled around the two mages, eyes narrowed as they tried to make out their attackers.

“Alright, now, come out of those trees and face us like real bandits,” Bull nearly purred. “Hiding in the dark just makes me angry.” Another arrow whizzed out of the darkness, thunking into the dirt next to Bull. A deep growl forced its way from the Qunari’s throat, and he stepped forward towards the trees before Varric’s voice stopped him.

“Elves, Tiny. Looks like the elves have been following us.” The dwarf thrust his chin in the direction of the treeline. As if by magic, elvhen began appearing out of the mist, a total of twelve in all. Completely still, their arrows notched tight and every one of them pointed at Bull. One of the twelve broke rank, gliding through the clearing with remarkable grace.

Solas sat up, helping the Inquisitor to a sitting position before he stood and brushed himself off. Hands clasped behind his back, he started towards the elvhen.

Bull ‘hmphed’ and leaned over to grasp Orianna around her waist, lifting her up and setting her on her feet. “He could have at least offered to help you up.” He picked a twig out of her hair, snorting in amusement.

“Thank you, Bull.” She spit out a mouthful of dirt and sighed at the sight of leaves and twigs sticking haphazardly out of her hair. “So, by elves, you mean Abelas and his terrifyingly dangerous elves?”

“Yep. Though from here it doesn’t look like Chuckles and he are having a great chat.”

From where they were standing, Solas looked positively livid, elvish rolling off of his tongue as if he had been born to it, and Abelas exchanging words just as quickly. The Sentinel’s golden gaze often flicked back to the three of them, and Orianna shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. She was honestly terrified of the ancient elves who hissed the word shemlen at her with such hatred. She felt for them, though, these beautiful immortals who woke to a world turned upside down. If only they would have taken her offer at the temple. She could at least give them a home until they found one better.

“Stop it, Boss,” Bull said suddenly, looking down at the petite brunette. “You’ve got that look in your eye again. They are not puppies, and they do not need you to rescue them. We, however, may be in need of being rescued if Solas and the other one come to blows.”

Another five minutes rolled by, and the temperature began to drop. Orianna scooted closer to Bull, hoping to soak up the crazy amount of body heat that the Qunari put off. She elbowed him in the hip when he opened his mouth to say something, completely positive it would be inappropriate and crude. His silence on the matter confirmed her suspicions, and when she glanced up at him, he grinned down at her and winked.

The elves did not seem phased.

Orianna huffed, her nose scrunching up in the way that only happened when she was getting irritated. She pulled at the tie at the end of her braid, trying her very best to make her hair presentable again. It was a lost cause, and she growled as she tugged the last leaf she could find out. “I’m going over there,” she grumbled, more to herself than anyone else. “They want to play ‘measure THIS part of my body’ in elvish, they can. But they’re going to do it while the others of us are sleeping in a tent.”

With that, she stormed over to the middle of the clearing where Solas and Abelas were still arguing.The Sentinel noticed her first, one eyebrow quirking just slightly at the sight of the disheveled Inquisitor stomping over to them. Solas also paused mid-rant, turning to look down at her with an equally as surprised expression.

She knew she made quite a sight. Angry, hair literally filled with twigs and dirt, with and expression that begged for someone to say something wrong at this moment. She’d most likely turn them into a lightning bolt popsicle. She was feeling quite confident in herself until she heard the strain of the bow strings behind Abelas move from being aimed at Bull to being aimed at the three of them. Probably just her.

“I’m tired,” she growled, the mark in her hand flickering with her emotional state. “I’m hungry, cold, and want to sit down. So if you gentlemen would kindly take whatever this,” she made a motion with her hand that looked a lot like an impatient flail, “is to the camp that we make, you are all welcome to eat with us and discuss it like civilized creatures. You don’t want us dead because you could have done that now a million times over, and we don’t want you dead because we offered you a home a couple of months back.” She crossed her arms over her chest and waited, glaring between the two elves. Neither moved.

“Seriously, you two? Okay, stay out here and starve. Finish whatever this is, take as long as you need but by the time you’re done, Bull will have eaten all the food, and THAT is a tragedy. My cooking is amazing. Solas knows. Behind that irritating and stoic expression he’s wearing right now, he’s crying inside because there will be no food for him.” She spun on her heel and headed back towards Bull and Varric. “S’why you elves are so skinny,” she mumbled. “Can’t put the egos down for five minutes to eat or sleep.”

Abelas turned back to Solas with an expression bordering on amusement. “ _She seemed much less...unstable when we were in the temple. Perhaps the knowledge of the Well has pushed her into madness. ARE you crying on the inside due to not having sustenance?”_

Solas scoffed, his hands relaxing to his sides. “ _No, though the Inquisitor is a very good cook. She will be less prone to violence if you let her know why you are here, and if you have your people drop their weapons. No one here will harm you as long as you pay them the same courtesy. And she has always been like this._ ” A slight grin pulls at the corner of his lip. “ _But if we linger here too much longer, she is just as likely to open a rift on top of our heads. We should probably move this into a camp.”_

Abelas nodded, glancing back to his people and motioning for them to put away their weapons. They all moved warily closer, stopping where Abelas stood as he waited for Solas to lead them to wherever the other three had wandered off to. It wasn’t as if they would have had trouble finding them, Abelas just assumed it would be more appropriate than popping into their camp unannounced.

Solas led the larger group through the clearing and back towards where the others had made camp earlier that evening. They had only wandered from the camp to try and find something to eat with the venison Varric had managed to catch and field dress with Bull’s help. Orianna didn’t glance at them as they walked up, instead keeping her attention fully focused on the half-overturned bag of spices and other dried goods she kept with her at all times. “I hope none of you are allergic to meat or spices because it looks like we will be having stew and bread for dinner. Nothing fancy, but I did manage to get the bakers to put something other than hardtack into our food container this time,” she said to no one in particular, motioning for Varric to toss the tender deer meat into the hot pan. It sizzled, soon filling the camp with a wondrous aroma.

Most of the elvhen looked around nervously, glancing from the food on the fire to the woods behind them. “You are not afraid of wild animals or other quicklings finding your camp?” one of them, a female with bright blue eyes and a thin, almost gaunt face, asked.

Solas motioned around them. “The Inquisitor puts up a barrier as she cooks. It is not as powerful as one uses for battle, but it does keep the smoke and smells from leaving the camp and alerting anything nearby of our presence.” The female nodded, and one by one they took seats or stood nearer the camp fire. Their eyes gleamed from inside their hoods, and they watched the other four moving around to finish setting up camp. 

Once they were satisfied, Solas took a seat not too far from the curious female, setting to the task of pulling out the breads and utensils that they all might need. He barely noticed as she scooted closer to him and reached up to touch his face.

He jerked back at her touch, a scathing remark on the tip of his tongue before he realized she had blood on her fingertips. “ _I only seek to heal the hurt that I have caused_ ,” she said quietly in elvish, hesitating a moment before he nodded his head at her silent request. A wash of cool healing energy knitted the skin back together nicely, and no scar would remain because of her arrow. “I am sorry,” she says in the common tongue. “It was not my intention to harm you or the shemlen. I shall endeavor to do better in the future.” With that, she moved back to her seat, sitting quietly on the ground and staring at the fire.

Where Solas looked unperturbed by the event, the rest of the party gaped at him with open mouths. “Well, I guess Sera was right,” Bull said, grabbing a ladle and stirring the spoon. From their position across the fire, only Varric and Orianna could hear him clearly, “he might only get his for _elvhen glory_ or whatever nonsense she talks about sometimes. I mean, hell Boss, he won’t even let you heal him when he’s half dead.”

“Really don’t need that commentary right now, Bull. They can probably hear you. Let’s just get through dinner and we will find out what they need. Besides, it’s probably nice for Solas to be around his own people for a while. I mean, have you met us? I can’t even sit still for three minutes, and they look like they can hold whatever position they're in for hours. We can be a little much sometimes.”

“You’re babbling again, Boss. You only really do that when--”

“When she’s upset or flustered,” Varric finished, looking for all the world like the cat that ate the canary. “Can we guess why you’re babbling, Princess?”

“Can I strike you with lightning and singe off your chest hair?”

“That’s a no, then. I vote dinner, then conversation not involving our Inquisitor’s very pink cheeks right now.”

“Good choice, Varric, good choice.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is that the green-eyed monster I see peeking out of his hiding place? Maybe, just maybe!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, for future reference, this timeline is all messed up. I am aware of this, and there is a reason for it. Mostly it's because I really want to take Abelas and Solas into Halamshiral. All that elfy goodness dressed to impress? Oh, yes. It's not happening now, but I'm just warning you.

Once everyone had eaten -- and boy, do ancient elves eat -- Orianna distracted herself by cleaning up the area and waiting for the elves to finish communicating in their language. It was amusing how Solas could look both elated at the chance to communicate with others like him and terrified that his new party would find out he wasn’t like other elves. 

Of course he wasn’t, and though it had taken her a while to be sure, the conversation Abelas and Solas had in the Temple of Mythal completely sealed it for her. He was one of the ancient elves, and the only thing she couldn’t figure out was why it was so important for others to think that he wasn’t. They were fighting an ancient Magister from legend, so why couldn’t an elf from long ago pop up now and again? Abelas and his elves were proof that others existed, and everyone accepted their truths as long as they didn’t give them reason not to.

The Inquisitor’s eyes narrowed on the lithe female that had healed Solas’ face, conversing quietly with a few of her comrades. Why would it bother her so much that he had allowed the touch? Probably because he was very aware of his personal space at all times, and it was literally moments of life or death that he ever broached that personal space with another person. She was beautiful, though, her golden hair braided down her back and she looked much less starved after eating a healthy portion of the meal. No wonder Solas kept to himself. No one on Thedas could match the beauty of these elves, and Orianna would bet money his opinions on beauty were influenced by women and men like the ones here in camp. 

She sighed, standing from her crouched position and brushing at her knees to knock the dirt off. She pivoted on her heel and nearly barrelled into Abelas, squeaking in surprise as he reached out instinctively to steady her. “Oh, Maker, I’m sorry! I didn’t even hear you,” she said quickly, hopping backwards awkwardly to give him more space. “How, uh… Would you like to talk about why you’re all here?”

He inclined his head once. “I would. Is there somewhere private you would like to discuss this? I am not sure how much information you would like to share with your,” he paused and looked directly at Solas, “companions.”

She shrugged delicately, motioning to one of the larger logs Bull had dragged to the campfire or to her own tent. “Unless we end up hiking miles away, I’m pretty sure privacy is just an illusion out here. It’s up to you, though. I don’t hide anything from my friends.”

“Even if they hide everything from you?” the elf replied cryptically, turning to head for her tent. “I would rather speak in as private an area as possible.” He breezed by Bull and Varric, the latter two men’s eyebrows shooting up quickly as Abelas casually entered her tent. 

“Not a word,” she growled at them. “Keep your minds outta the gutter. It’s just for a talk.”

“Aw, Boss, c’mon. You know that would be some juicy stuff. Ancient elf secretly lusting for the hot human. Now that’s a story I would read. Varric, my friend, you should be taking notes.” Bull grinned from ear to ear, waggling his eyebrows in a comically lewd manner. 

“Not when she’s around, Tiny. I like my chest hairs right where they are. Don’t worry, Princess. If the tent’s a rockin’--”

Orianna rolled her eyes up to the sky and prayed to the Maker that no one else overheard their comments. The disgusted noise that left her lips as she made her way to her tent would have made even Cassandra proud, and she stormed off and slipped inside.

Varric leaned in closer to Bull. ”Now isn’t that interesting?” he said, motioning for Bull to look where he was gesturing. “I don’t think Chuckles very much likes the idea of the other elf rocking the Inquisitor’s tent.”

Indeed, the look that Solas was giving the Inquisitor’s tent would have made a lesser tent catch on fire. 

The Qunari chuckled. “Ten gold that he starts making moves on her before we reach Skyhold.”

“Nah, that’s not a lustful, unrequited love look. That’s a completely disapproving ‘no mixing the bloodlines’ kind of look. Pretty sure he’s disapproving of Abelas speaking with the Inquisitor, not the other way around. Have you seen the looks the other lady elves are giving him? Yeah, no way he’s going for the Princess. Cullen, maybe. Blackwall, yes. But Solas, not in a million years.”

“So you aren’t taking the bet?”

“Oh, I’m taking the bet. I just want to let you know that it’s weighted in my favor.” Varric pulled Bianca into his lap and began carefully cleaning her. “No trying to back out of it now it’s set.”

Bull grinned and shook his head. “I wouldn’t dream of it.” 

~~~

When Orianna entered the tent, she realized just how small it was with another body in it. It wasn’t just his size that made Abelas larger than life, it was his presence. He screamed ‘immortal elf killer’ without uttering a single word. His steady gaze made her incredibly uncomfortable, and she fidgeted with the hem of her sleeve for a moment as she silently tried to work out the logistics of both of them in the tent.

“This isn’t going to work with both of us standing, so please sit and I will do the same.”

He nodded and slipped gracefully into a sitting position on her bedroll, and she sat nearly as far from his position as possible, completely out of her element and praying it didn’t show too much. It hadn’t been long enough for her to sift through the knowledge of the Well, and most of the time it gave her a terrible headache to even bring up facts. 

Josie never gave her Ancient Elf Etiquette classes.Trying to dredge up something from the Well was a bust also. Light burst behind her eyelids, and she closed her eyes for a moment and pressed her fingers to her eyes to lessen the pain. “So, how can the Inquisition help you and your friends?”

“Actually, Inquisitor, we are here to help you. As a shem- er, a mortal, it may be difficult for you to manage the memories of the Well. Our people were heavily affected by the Magister’s raid on Mythal’s temple, and we are the only ones left.” 

She looked up at him, his face as still as stone, but she could see emotions behind his golden gaze that broke her heart in two. 

He continued. “As it is, we have attempted to speak with some of the travelling quickling clans, and they know nothing of our history. It is frustrating for our people to have fallen so far and not be able to help them as we are. We wish to offer aid in eliminating the Magister, even if that means showing you exactly how to manage your way through our memories, and in return you and your people help us acclimate to this new world. It is a temporary thing, but we believe it will benefit us all in the short term.”

Orianna nodded, bringing her knees up to her chest and resting her chin on them. “Your help and the help of your people will be greatly appreciated, Abelas. We have plenty of room at Skyhold, and I’m sure Solas would enjoy more elvhen company. I accept your proposal, barring any crazy objections by my Councillors. You are all welcome to come with us back to Skyhold, and we can work out the details there, though.”

“Thank you, Inquisitor. We shall take our leave of your camp at once and meet you back here before noon. We will go back to our camp and gather our belongings. Should everything go according to plan, we will meet you back here before noon tomorrow.”

“You don’t need to rest before then?”

Abelas smirked, the amusement almost reaching his eyes. “We have slept for a millennia, Inquisitor. I assure you we are well rested. Noon tomorrow. If we do not show up, leave without us because we are all most likely dead.” With that, he stood and slipped easily around her, exiting the tent.

She scrambled up and stuck her head out of the tent. “Seriously? Try NOT to die, alright?” 

“Noon tomorrow, Inquisitor,” was all he said as every one of his people stood and moved into the woodline like liquid shadows.

“So, new allies, Boss?” Bull quipped, grinning at her.

“Yes, in fact. They’ll be meeting up with us tomorrow to make the trek to Skyhold.”

Solas scowled, standing up and pacing around the campfire like a caged animal. “Inquisitor, you have no idea what these elves want or even if they will hold to their word. We know nothing about them, and you trust them just like that?”

“I trusted you, didn’t I?” she said quietly, and her words stopped him in his tracks.

“Well, yes, but I---”

“You’re no different. We can’t afford to turn down allies, even ones that are a thousand times older than us. And if they kill me, then you can say ‘I told you so’ to my corpse. Now,” she slipped back into her tent for a moment and came out with a small leather bag. “I’m going to wash up before I go to bed. There’s a stream right behind us, no I don’t need a chaperone, and while I’m gone, you boys fight amongst yourselves as to who gets first watch. I took it last night.”

With that, Orianna trudged out of the camp and towards the stream, hoping that the water wasn’t too frigid to wash her hair. 

Watching as she walked off, Solas turned a hard gaze to both Bull and Varric. “Neither of you think this is a bad idea? They could just be here to take the knowledge of the Well back by killing her.”

Bull shrugged. “I figured you of all people would appreciate the open-hearted way that Orianna accepts everyone. Especially ones that are obviously keen on getting close to you. Besides, should they kill her, then no one wins. She’s the only one that can close the rifts and kill Corypheus.”

“I’m sorry, did you say _keen on getting close with me?_ What is that supposed to mean, exactly?” Solas’ eye narrowed at the two of them before something clicked. “You mean the elf that healed me? She did that in apology for hurting me. Nothing about that was….It wasn’t meant as an..”

Bull snorted. “She looked at you like a starving nug eyes a piece of meat. Or grass, whatever nugs eat. Basically, you’re a fresh piece after being locked in eternity with the same eight men. You can’t hide bedroom eyes like the ones she was shooting you, and I’m pretty sure I watched you return a look or three.”

Solas’ mouth opened and closed several times, but no words escaped him. How easily Fen’Harel came to the surface when he needed him to. Without even realizing it, he had instinctively responded to a female and had been caught while doing it. There was even a moment where he thought about following them to speak with her further before common sense reigned him back in. He had been too long without a lover, base instincts overwhelming him when he needed his calm demeanor the most. 

“That is ridiculous, Iron Bull. I was merely thanking her for healing me and for apologizing for the arrow to the cheek. Not everything has to do with sex.” He sat on the ground, back against the log farthest from Bull. “I will take first watch. You two can retire.”

“Nah, I’m not going anywhere for a while. Want to make sure Boss gets back safe to camp. You know how she gets when flustered. Forgets the time, then she’s a popsicle and needs someone to warm her up. I’m absolutely sure that Abelas flustered her a little bit. Hell, I’d be flustered, too, if he looked at me like--”

“Enough! It’s incredibly crass to speak of the Inquisitor like that. I would appreciate it if you kept your opinions to yourself.”

With a put-out sigh, Bull stood and stretched, leaning over to pat Varric on the shoulder. “I’m definitely going to use that gold for drinks, pal.” Straightening, he glanced back at Solas. “Welp, if you’re certain you can handle first shift, I’m out for the night. Good night!” He cheerfully made his way to his tent, grunting as he squeezed himself into the small space. He desperately missed the larger Inquisition tents, but out here in the middle of nowhere, it was easier to carry single, tiny tents.

Varric waved a silent ‘good night’ to Solas on his way to bed. “Don’t worry, Chuckles, I’m sure the elves will make a good addition. If not, we have an army to deal with them, right? Maybe they’re the one thing Corypheus isn’t counting on.” 

“Perhaps,” Solas said quietly. “Or perhaps they are the one thing that will ruin everything we’ve worked hard to build.”


	3. Chapter 3

There was a small explosive sound by the creek, and a flash of orange illuminated the camp. Bull grunted, poking one horn out of the side of his tent. “Boss! That you being real bad at runes or are we being attacked?”

“Shut up, Bull!” the shriek that followed his comment was shrill and full of embarrassment. “I thought that if I mixed it with a partial lightning rune it would warm the water with more regularity, and…. Oh, go suck a nug! Maker, I think I blew up my clothes.” 

Varric and Bull’s laughter filled the camp. Solas was absolutely certain one of them was going to suffer her ire once she made it back. “Inquisitor, would you like some help?” he called out, standing even as he asked. He should have offered before, knowing how she was when it came to casting non-explosive runes, but her demeanor did not really allow for said offer. 

“Uh...well, alright. Maybe you can look at this burn while you’re at it. Just don’t laugh at me!” 

He chuckled as he made his way down to the stream, throwing a word of advice back to the guffawing tents. “I wouldn’t be laughing at her once she gets back up here. Remember that she can open rifts at her leisure.”

Solas didn’t see the Inquisitor at first, instead focusing on the sheer damage that had been done to the rocks and trees around the stream. Explosion, indeed. He toed some of the rubble, trying not to smile before looking up to try and find the bombardier herself. “Inquisitor, I can’t help you if you aren’t going to come out. I’m sure it isn’t that bad. I mean, the obvious combat advantages we can make with your rune are staggering. You could take out part of an army with it.”

There was a larger boulder a slight walk from where he was standing. He could see a bare arm wriggling from the top of it. “I’m over here,” she said miserably, poking her head over the side to make sure he saw her before disappearing over the edge again.

He made his way over to her, and once he had made it to the base of the large stone, he called up to her. “You can come down, or I can endeavor to climb up there with you. You’re choice, though if you really are injured, I will ask that you lie still and let me look at the extent of the damage.”

A groan was his only answer for a few moments before she poked her head over the side. “Alright, I’m coming down. Just….turn around, will you? Don’t look until I make sure everything is kind of covered.”

He turned immediately, opening his mouth to offer to leave and grab her someone’s cloak but it was too late. She hopped down from her perch, hissing through her teeth as she made impact with the ground. He heard her shuffling around for a few seconds, and she sighed heavily. “Okay.”

He turned slowly, half dreading that he’d find her burnt to a crisp. The reality of the situation was….well.

Her right cheek was singed down to her collarbone, the angry red skin looking rather painful even in the evening light. That wasn’t what had his attention, though. His attention was focused on the lace. 

Black ribbons and lace were all that were currently covering the Inquisitor at the moment. Scantily covering her, at that. He looked up at her face that looked more miserable than embarrassed. “Inquisitor….”

“I know, okay? But I’m sure I’m not the first human you’ve seen half-naked, and I’m really sorry it has to be you because I know how you feel about humans in general, but you’re the better healer and I am going to kill Sera for switching my underclothes for these...these monstrosities,” she babbled, looking anywhere aside from his face. She didn’t know if she could live through the distaste she’s sure she’d find there. She looked down at herself and plucked at the tiny bow nestled between her breasts. “Who wears this stuff? It’s impractical in every way and _Solas what are you doing?!_ ” 

The elf had closed the distance between them with a step, hands moving around her waist to gently press her back against the rock. “You’re shivering, Inquisitor,” he said smoothly, reaching up right above her shoulder to inscribe a non-explosive heat rune. Immediately heat radiated down the rock to warm her back. The corner up his lips turned up at Orianna’s wide-eyed stare. “Also,” he continued, taking half a step forward to bring them within centimeters of full-body contact, “I can’t heal you if I’m not close.” 

She winced as he gently brought his hand up to her cheek, relaxing back against the rock as his healing magic cooled the burning skin nicely. She jerked when his hand traveled lower, and the magic continued to work even as he rested his fingers right above the bare skin of her heart. 

“You know,” he murmured, gaze dropping to the bare skin of her stomach and hips as he searched for more burns. “That is twice today that someone has tried to tell me my own feelings. About elves and humans. Why do you think that is?” She had scattered small burns running down her torso, a product of the lightning if the arch pattern that curved around her hip was any indication.

“Because you’re rather opinionated on humans and elves? You talk about them even to Sera, and you looked so happy when you were talking with the others today.” She was finding it incredibly hard to breathe with him so near, especially as he swept his hands down her sides and rested them right above her hips in an effort to heal whatever else had injured her. 

She was incredibly confused. He was studying her like a puzzle, no heat or lust in his gaze at all. She wasn’t generally embarrassed about being half dressed in front of anyone, the bath houses in the Circle weren’t necessarily private and being in the wilderness meant she had seen more than her fair share of her companions, but this invasion of space had her wanting to run from him and pull him closer. To knock that detached stare from his eyes and fill them with something far more interesting.

She did not, however, act on her thoughts. She was too afraid of the rejection she knew he would give her, and the way that he looked at that other elf with all of her clothes on showed her that he did lust. 

Just not for humans.

Lost in her own thoughts, Orianna barely noticed the frown that had formed on his lips or the way he had stopped healing her. He did not make a move to let her go, however, and she canted her head to the side as she gazed -- probably too much -- at the downturned lips. “What?”

“I am sorry if my viewpoints have made you uncomfortable. And if I seemed to find more enjoyment in the company of the elvhen, I assure you that I enjoy my work with the Inquisition far more than it seems, apparently,” he said dryly, removing his hands from her side and taking a step back. He clasped them behind his back.

Orianna wrapped her arms around herself and stayed against the rock. “It’s okay to find comfort in those you know, Solas. It’s also alright to have opinions, and I hope none of us have made you feel uncomfortable for having them. Thank you for healing me, and I’m sorry for,” she motioned to the disaster, “this.” She pushed off the rock, and this time it was she that closed the distance between them. She raised up on her tip-toes and kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you for not saying anything, either. I’m never going to live this down as it is, but at least you didn’t make light of it.”

With that, she started for camp, and he fell into step beside her.

“Are you sure that you don’t want me to get a cloak?”

“Why? We’re literally right here. You’ve already seen me, Varric will stay in his tent, and Bull… is Bull. No need in making an extra trip. I didn’t blow up all my clothes, thankfully.”

She was staring at the ground as they made their way into camp, so she didn’t see the three elvhen Sentinels standing there, Abelas at the lead. Solas did, however, and the growl he emitted as he shoved her behind him was almost primal. 

Orianna yelped and grabbed onto his shirt to keep from falling over. She smacked his shoulder, glaring at the back of his bald head. “What the hell was that fo--- OH.” She peered around his arm at the others. Iron Bull was sitting right outside his tent, looking back at them almost apologetically. “Hey, guys. You probably heard that explosion, huh? That was a, um, just a slight problem. Nothing to be concerned about.” She could feel the heat rising in her cheeks. 

Abelas inclined his head slightly. “So we have been told. We were worried that enemies had stumbled upon you, but I see now that this is not the case. Losing control of your magic during mating is expected in the early days of a relationship. It is nothing to be ashamed of. The blast was...impressive, actually.”

Solas shot a heated word to Abelas as he tugged his green overshirt off, shoving it behind him for her to take. She took it quickly, opening her mouth to say something when he turned to level a glare at her. 

Apparently this was an elf thing. 

Throwing his shirt on over her head, she tugged it down into place. Well, it was a little big, but all her bits were now covered by soft green wool. Bull was nearly cackling with glee.Please, Maker, let a rift open up somewhere close and swallow her.

Abelas’ eye widened, and the two behind him shifted uncomfortably. “I apologize, Inquisitor. When elvhen mate, their magics entwin--”

Solas bit out another elven phrase, and Abelas nodded again. “Forgive us for being under the wrong impression. A half-naked attractive woman with a man leads to all kinds of misinterpretations, it would seem. We were just making sure you were all still alive.” He gave Solas an angry, pointed look before the three of them disappeared from the camp again.

Solas turned to the Inquisitor, a blush coloring his cheeks and the tips of his ears. “I apologize for their assumptions, Inquisitor. You may keep the shirt, if you wish, and return it whenever convenient.” He quickly took his leave, climbing into his own tent and shutting the flap.

Bull snorted as she walked past him. “Blew up your clothes, huh? No terrible injuries, I’m guessing.”

“Just burns on my face and collar. Nothing serious. I still didn’t get to wash my hair though. Oh well, I’ll just have to brush the twigs out of it and hope for a better day tomorrow. Not a word out of you, by the way.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, boss. Not after I just made a healthy sum of money from Varric. I’m sure it will keep me drunk for any entire night or more. Besides, not even sure what I’d say that would make it a good story. Aside from you looking hot in his shirt, but I can’t imagine he’d be anything but straightforward in the sack. Probably stay in missiona--” 

“Bull! I don’t.. Just… Words. Stop using them!” She hurried off to her tent, which was situated between Solas’ and Varric’s. Collapsing onto her bedroll, she buried her face in her pillow, wishing this day would end. 

An odd scent reached her nose, and she lifted up to investigate before she realized it was the shirt. Elfroot and crystal grace mixed with old books and paint. It was an interesting scent and one hundred percent Solas. Shifting to curl up under her blankets, she kept the shirt on and curled up in it.

Perhaps it wasn’t such a bad day, then.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elf sparring in a beautiful thing.
> 
> Also on my Tumblr at etherealinquisitor.tumblr.com

The Sentinels did indeed meet them at the previously agreed upon time, and the trip back to Skyhold was far more quiet than usual. Orianna assumed it was the newcomers moving as one serpentine unit, probably making Bull and Varric uneasy, but Solas was typically chatty with the others and he remained quiet. He had been nearly mute since he left his tent. Orianna returned his shirt with a thanks earlier that morning after changing into her spare armor, and he took it with a nod. 

The Inquisitor was certain the silence was going to drive her mad. She hated the quiet, but she was afraid to break the silence for fear it was some Elvhen faux pas to talk while traveling on dangerous roads. They really needed more books on the subject of ancient elves, she decided, making a mental note to have Josie scour the lands for whatever books she could find on the subject.

It wasn’t until they stumbled upon a rift that the mood of the party lifted. She kept her distance from most of the fighting, letting their new friends and the others take out their aggressions on the demons as they poured out of the rift. Once they had adequately smashed, sliced, or burned the demons appropriately, she closed the rift with a flick of the wrist.

Abelas wandered over to her, holding out his hand and motioning towards the marked hand. “May I?” he asked almost slyly, his gaze cutting to Solas who was already making his way over to them.

She held up her hand automatically, used to the curiosity that the mark tended to bring out in people. And, hey, if he could give her some insight on the mark, that was just a bonus.

Abelas took her hand, his own warm and weathered from his blades. He ignored the intense stare levelled on him by Solas, focus riveted on the mark itself. “How is your body not tearing apart at the seams?” he mused out loud, causing Solas to tense up beside her. “This power was not meant for you, and yet is seems quite happy to remain for now. Fascinating.”

The ancient elf released her, focusing now on the elf beside her. “I had no intention of harming her. You claim to not want her, yet here you are when I converse with her. Very strange. If you are not careful, it might bring you into conflict with someone who truly does want to pursue her. I imagine that day with end with bloodshed.”

Solas was clenching his jaw as Abelas walked away, refusing to look down at Orianna. “It seems I’m always apologizing for their forward behavior. Culturally, things were much different for them and in today’s time….They have been away from civilization for too long. They are working off of primal instincts at the moment. Give them time to acclimate.”

“So you’re saying they’re focused on what? Killing and sex?” she asked curiously, still stinging over Abelas’ comment over Solas not wanting her. She tried very hard to tell herself it didn’t matter. He was still her friend, and friends didn’t need sexual attraction. Their relationship was based on practical things like his love for books just like her or his way of watching her when she was experimenting with Dagna to stop the both of them from blowing things up. 

He looked almost pained at her simplification of his statement. “Yes and no. More yes than no, I expect. Abelas is used to having the dominant role in most situations, and his comments are most likely to try and put a wedge between us. I expect others will try to establish themselves in other ways as they get more comfortable.” His gaze drifted over to the group of elves, and he smiled politely at the blonde when she raised her hand slightly in greeting.

“Well,” Orianna said grumpily, glaring at both him and the group of elves. “I guess that makes more sense than the alternative of you _actually_ finding me attractive. Just don’t sleep with her until after we get behind stone walls, please. I’ll try to afford you the same courtesy when Abelas comes to establish his dominance.” The comment was meant as a jab, and it had its intended effect. His attention was turned back to her immediately, and the tips of his ears reddened as his expression went from embarrassed to almost angry. She smiled sweetly at him and pivoted on her heel, moving through the group to chat with Varric.

She didn’t speak to him again the rest of the journey.

~~~~~

It wasn’t until they made it back to Skyhold that her anger cooled. That’s when the horror of the situation finally hit her. She groaned, leaning her head on her desk as the guilt washed over her. Solas was probably neck deep in old elven politics, and she wasn’t making it any better by making him uncomfortable. And, she could admit, she was horribly jealous of the golden-haired elf. Nara, if she remembered correctly, was her name. 

Josie had taken the news of their new guests well, and she had even cleared out one of the barracks for them to use on their own. Once the west wing was finished with construction, they could afford to give most of them their own rooms if they desired. They were doing well, all things considered, though Abelas and Cullen were having issues remaining civil. The ancient elf had extreme opinions on training troops, and Cullen wasn’t having it.

She kept her head on her desk, sighing as she thought of various ways to apologize to Solas OR avoid him forever. The first seemed more doable than the second, but she was always up for an adventure. Avoidance was a great sport she enjoyed; it was much easier than admitting her wrongs and humiliating herself further. Maybe she could stay in her room and read until Corypheus decided to come find her.

No, Cassandra wouldn’t let her stay in her room for that long. 

Going to find Dagna and trying out some of the new items she had made was a bad idea. Solas always knew when they were experimenting, and the last thing she wanted to do was see him. Regardless of her brain’s insistence on fixing the problem, her feelings were still hurt.

She had never been more aware of her inexperience with men in general until she became part of the Inquisition. No one in the Circle found her interesting enough to be with, and now it was obvious that no one here did, either. If it wasn’t for the mark on her hand, she’d probably be invisible. Having it smooshed in her face every other day didn’t do much for her self-esteem.

Her wallowing was interrupted by a knock on the door. Sitting up quickly, she smoothed her hair and stood up, grumbling to herself as she walked across the room. She opened the door, blinking at the little boy standing there. “Miss Leliana sent me, Your Worship. The elves, they’re… well, you should come see.” With that, the he took off down the hallway, obviously getting back to something more interesting.

Curious about the elves, she shut the door and quickly followed the small child. Outside, a group was gathered around the training area, and she could see sparks and hear the clanging of sword clashing. 

The crowd parted for her when she made it to them, and she had to rub her eyes a few times for her brain to understand what was happening.

Solas and Abelas were sparring. Swords in one hand and magic wreathed the other, both of them were tense and completely focused on one another.

They were also sweaty and shirtless.

“I have to say,” she heard Cassandra mutter to the left of her, “I didn’t expect _that_ under Solas’ armor.”

She sucked in a breath as she watched them move as if dancing, gracefully gliding over the field as steel and magic flew around them. Muscles gleamed in the dying light of the evening, and Orianna resisted the urge to fan herself like some of the other ladies around her. Leaning over to the blushing Cassandra, she whispered “What brought this on? Solas avoids this place like the plague.”

“Apparently Abelas said something about Solas not being worthy of a woman and challenged him to a sparring match. Solas declined until Abelas snapped something in elvish that no one will translate for me. It wasn’t a flattering comment, though, from the tone. I’m guessing it’s over Nara, from how she has been ogling the both of them since they stepped in the ring.” The longing in Cassandra’s voice broke Orianna’s heart, and she awkwardly patted her friend on the shoulder. Out of everyone, Cassandra was the only one that Orianna could understand and relate to almost completely.

With the small exception of being able to speak bluntly. Orianna had never mastered that skill and tended to stutter and say the wrong thing. Always. Such is the life of a bookworm, she supposed.

The two elves circled each other, and Solas met her eye for a moment. He smirked at her and winked, pivoting on one foot to catch Abelas off guard with a stunning spell. The Sentinel staggered for only a moment, but Solas used that moment to his advantage to sweep the feet from under him, and Abelas tumbled to the ground with a thud. The crowd cheered.

Solas stabbed his sword into the ground, leaning over to offer a hand to the Sentinel. “It was a good match, friend,” he said, pulling him up.

“I had no idea you were that good with your sword, Solas!” Bull yelled from the back of the crowd, pulling a chuckle out of everyone and a suffering sigh out of the winner.

Abelas nodded, heading out of the sparring ring with Nara at his heels. Odd, if Solas was sparring for her attention. She would never understand them.

She melted into the crowd as it began to disperse, wincing as she heard his voice clearly from over the crowd. 

“Inquisitor!”

She turned, heading back to where he was pulling a light tunic over his head. She cleared her throat and looked everywhere except at him. “Yes, Solas?”

“I was hoping to have a word with you, sometime this evening when you are free. The Sentinels have given me some vital information that I feel might help the Inquisition.”

She blinked. “Oh, um.. Well, I’ve got dancing lessons with Josie in about half an hour for Halamshiral, but we can talk afterwards. Or during, if you’re feeling adventurous and want to watch the debacle. Josie would probably take notes for later anyway if you asked her to.”

“Well, I wasn’t expecting an audience for our talk, but I suppose I could come by to watch you dance. I might even be able to help if needed. If you aren’t exhausted, we can speak afterwards.”

She snorted, obviously amused at something he didn’t quite grasp. “Sure, that’s fine. Monsieur Fluffer...something…. is the instructor. Abelas will be there as well. He claims he can teach dances we are unfamiliar with. It’s less for the party and more just for fun, though.” 

Solas frowned. “Abelas? And Josephine didn’t think to ask me?”

“You’ve never expressed an interest in dancing, though after your round with Abelas, you could convince her otherwise. Now, go get cleaned up and stop frowning. It’ll give you wrinkles,” she teased. “I’ve got to go wriggle into a dress and hope to not be seen by anyone, so I’m the only one that should be frowning. I’ll see you in half an hour.”

With that, she walked off back towards her room, mysteriously a lot happier than when she left it.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dancing, and the dangers thereof.
> 
> Can be found [here](http://etherealinquisitor.tumblr.com/post/144628700878/into-the-sun-chapter-5) on my tumblr as well!

This was going to be a disaster.

First, the dress she has asked Vivienne to get her was supposed to flow nicely around her ankles. She did not ask for the low-cut top that she -- begrudgingly -- admitted made her breasts look fantastic, nor did she ask for the sleeves to dip off the shoulders into cute caps, leaving the Inquisitor very little fabric up top to cover anything. It was also very red.

The skirts did sweep in beautiful layers of chiffon, though, which was its only saving grace. 

When she finally made it to the room they were practicing in, because just walking through Skyhold in that outfit made it difficult to pry the Orlesian nobles off her arm, she realized that she should have probably mentioned beforehand that she could dance. The audience this garnered was something she could have done without.

Most of her companions were lazing against a wall or a chair, Josephine was talking to a slender Orlesian who looked overly pleased at his own position in this debacle, and Solas was with Abelas away from everyone else. Abelas had changed into soft leather pants and a black tunic, while Solas was in his normal clothing. They were conversing almost civilly until she walked into the room.

She could have done without the jaw dropping and the whistle calls, which only served to make her turn the color of her dress. Vivienne sauntered up to her and straightened everything out, tugging the bodice so it was extra low. “Sometimes,” the older woman said quietly, “you have to play the Game to make a point, darling. And now, I must say, you are making it.”

Orianna resisted the urge to tug the bodice up, smiling at Vivienne with a nod even though she wasn’t quite sure what the Knight Enchanter was talking about. Leliana walked up to her then and cooed over the stitchwork in the bodice before Josephine had to practically drag her away.

“This,” the Antivan said seriously, glaring at everyone in the room, “time is for the Inquisitor to learn the dances for Halamshiral. It is vital that she not only do well, but she has to make a statement with her dancing that leaves no doubt how confident and powerful she is. This is no laughing matter. Even a small weakness in a dance could prove fatal for our organization at the Winter Palace.”

“So absolutely no pressure, then,” Orianna grumbled to herself. She sighed as the Orlesian man made his way to her, and he was so excited he was practically jumping. 

“Your Worship,” he purred, his accent thick. “I am honored to be your teacher for this event. If you will take my hand, we can start with the simple steps and move into the waltz.”

“I want to start with the waltz first,” she said quietly, looking up at the dance instructor and taking his hand to lead him onto the dancefloor. She ignored the stares, setting her jaw stubbornly. “Waltz, then whatever other fashionable dances, then we will see what the elves have to offer. I promise I can keep up.”

“I...I..” he looked pleadingly over at Josephine who merely shrugged at him. “Alright, then, Your Worship, we will begin where you wish. However, if we are starting with the waltz, then you will need another partner. I will have to observe your form for inconsistencies.”

Sera cackled from her seat. “Eh! You should let Quizzy dance with Beardy over here. He says he danced once. Can’t imagine anyone else in this hole can dance without acting like a stick in the mud.”

Josephine looked nearly ill. “Well, if Blackwall, wait! Abelas, didn’t you offer to teach us a dance or two?”

“I have to disagree with your choice, Ambassador,” Solas piped in before Abelas could reply. “Abelas might be an excellent dancer, but he does not know the intricacies of today’s dances. I have, however, seen many such things in the Fade.”

“Oi! I don’t think either elfy-elf should be teaching Quizzy anything! Might rub off on ‘er, and then what? She’ll be screamin’ ‘elven glory!’ in the tents at night and no one will be able to sleep.” 

“Sera, your mouth is open,” Vivienne replied to the blonde elf. “Our Inquisitor is too busy to listen to your feral opinions on anything.”

Orianna gripped the bridge of her nose, feeling a headache coming on. “Alright, Solas. Let’s see how far ‘I learned it in the Fade’ gets you today.”

“Farther than you can imagine, Inquisitor,” he purred, holding out his hand for her to take and sweeping her into the proper first position.

It had been years since Orianna waltzed properly, but her body remembered the positions. Straight back, stiff arms, space between the bodies. She didn’t look up at Solas at first, trying to reign in her emotions and temper the blush that had been a constant since she stepped into this accursed place.

She felt the instructor at her back. “Eh, her form is perfect, Lady Josephine. Surprising,” he murmured, looking puzzled from behind his mask. “Start the music!”

Orianna had missed the small band hidden in the corner of the room, and she smiled as a familiar tune started up. She braved a glance up at her partner. “Are you sure you can handle this, Solas? Rumor has it you’re older than you look. I wouldn’t want to tire you out.”

He pulled her into the first sweeping motion, obviously intent on making a reply before he realized she was following him effortlessly. “You can dance,” he stated, narrowing his eyes at her. “Why hide it?”

“I’ve never hidden it,” she replied simply, “but if you haven’t noticed, there’s not much occasion to dance among the trees and demons.”

“There is always occasion to dance, Inquisitor, even then.”

She didn’t know why that statement warmed her as it did, but she didn’t have time to think on it as he changed his tactics and made the dance more intricate. She followed gracefully, half-hearing the gasps and comments of her fellow companions and the teacher. She spun out of his arm, pausing to wink at Josie, before he tugged her back to him with another elegant turn.

“Yes, well, you can keep up with a partner it seems. But how will you fare when someone else steps in?” She barely heard the instructor before she was pulled from Solas’ arms into someone else’s.

Blackwall stared down at her with a blush gracing what parts of his face weren’t beard. “I’m sorry, M’lady, but they asked…”

“It’s alright, Blackwall, just dance with me,” she said cheerfully, readjusting her technique to her partners as he glided her along the floor. 

She loved dancing, loved how free and happy it made her. It was the one thing she missed most about home, and one of the things that grieved her the most about being stuck in the Circle. They took her titles, her humanity, and most of all her ability to dance.

A change of partners again, and this time it was Abelas.

He twirled her around the floor once before the music changed, the beat firmer, more persistent and sensual than the waltz. “This dance requires more body contact,” he said, golden eyes nearly glowing in the dim light. “Are you alright with that?”

“Um, o-okay,” she managed, holding back her undignified squeak as he tugged her against the solid wall of his chest. She barely reached his shoulders, and she had to crane her head back to look up at him from this angle. 

“I do not think this is the kind of dancing the Inquisitor should be worrying about right now,” she overheard Solas hissing to Josephine, who levelled and even gaze on him. 

“Then perhaps YOU should have been the one to initiate that dance. It is elven, is it not?”

That was the last thing she heard as she was swept up into the magic of the dance. With similar initial steps to the waltz, Abelas pulled her close and expertly led her as she learned the steps. A turn sent her twirling from him, only to be pulled back to the heat of his embrace. It was almost overwhelming -- when did it get so hot in here? -- but with a flick of his wrist, she was spun away from him again.

Right into Solas’ arms. 

The gaze her partner gave Abelas was smug, who merely nodded and returned back to his seat. The elf did not miss a beat, continuing the dance that Abelas had started. Only it was different somehow, with Solas the movements held deeper meaning. Almost as if he were trying to tell her something as he pulled her against him, chuckling at her small gasp. They had never been this close before, face to face, and it was…. _scintillating_. 

The push and pull of the dance was meant to mimic other more intimate pastimes, and Orianna was trying hard to keep her mind solely on dancing. Being pressed up against this specific broad, warm chest was nice, but it was still dancing. He meant nothing more by it., but she could almost let her imagination wander into dangerous territory about _other_ skills he might have if he was this good of a dancer. It definitely meant nothing as she went sliding halfway down his body, only to be tugged back up as he dipped her. She had to hook her leg around the back of his calf to keep her balance -- his husky suggestion whispered in her ear before he did it -- and the music ended with the whoops and catcalls of her companions ringing in her ears.

He helped her find her balance, his hand resting low on her back. “You are a quick study, Inquisitor. I am impressed by your skills. So are the others, it seems”

“Actually, I think the applause is for you, Solas. Bull may just have a new favorite fantasy because of you,” she managed to get out, highly distracted by where his hand was resting, especially the thumb that was absently stroking the fabric. 

He pulled away, bowing low at the waist in a grand flourish. “It was a pleasure, Inquisitor. Though I will say that you can only get better were you to practice. I’m sure we can find time if you’re amenable to such an arrangement.”

“Uh-huh.” Verbal communication was apparently past her at this point, and she looked up as Abelas and Vivienne appeared behind Solas. 

“You know, darling, if you introduce that dance at Halamshiral, there might be a riot for your hand in marriage. It is very… sensual. Might be something to think about,” Vivienne nearly chirps, looking between the two elves with a shrewd eye. “Though I imagine it might not be as effective without your dueling elves here. Perhaps they should play nice long enough to get us through the Game at the Winter Palace. Just something to think about.”

Solas looked sour at Vivenne’s suggestion, but Abelas looked intrigued. 

“I would not mind dancing should it gain me access to the Palace. I admit, I am a bit curious as to the ways of nobility in this time.”

“It is the same as it always was,” Solas snapped. “Lies, slaves, and sex in one building. Nobles tripping over others in order to elevate their status, and servants being tormented every waking moment of their lives. I shudder to think about even walking into that place.”

Orianna rolled her eyes as Bull walked past her with a “Good game, Boss!”. She tugged at her skirt absently, listening to the elves with a frown. “You don’t have to go if it sounds like that much of a nightmare to you, Solas,” she said quietly. “I don’t want to put you in a position that makes you uncomfortable.”

He blinked at her. “Inquisitor, I didn’t mean...That is, I don’t mind going. I’m just trying to inform Abelas that not everything is so different than from his time. Royalty and nobility are no different than they were thousands of years ago.”

Abelas reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, giving her a meaningful look before sighing. “Yes, they are.” He looked almost sad as he turned to leave, and then it was just Solas and Orianna in the large empty room.

He cleared his throat, moving to clasp his hands behind his back as he watched Abelas leave. “I suppose he is right,” he said softly, turning to look at her with a slight smile. “You are unlike any leader I have ever met.”

“Probably because I was never meant to be a leader.” It came out bitter, not necessarily what she was intending. “I’m pretty sure ‘mad scientist mage’ wasn’t on the menu when Corypheus wondered what kind of leader he’d be. In fact, I…” She drifted off, intensely aware of Solas as he closed the distance between them. 

The look in his eye was something she had never had directed at her. Longing, perhaps? No matter what, it tugged at something deep in her belly, made her warm and just a little tingly as his hands moved up to touch her cheeks. His grip tightened, tilting her face up just so. His gaze searched hers for a moment before he pressed his lips to hers.

Soft. His lips were soft and gentle as they met hers, not demanding or insistent. She leaned closer to him, and he shifted one arm to wrap around her waist, the other slipping nicely into her hair. She was flush against him once again, and the sound that escaped the back of her throat was most definitely _not_ a whimper as he deepened the kiss. 

“Seriously?! You might as well ‘ave been bangin’ bits earlier, and now you’re sucking face? Bah, what a waste.” Sera’s disapproving voice shattered the moment as Solas pushed away from her in a nearly violent manner. His glare was full of venom as he stared at the blonde elf poking her head in the doorway.

“What? Can’t get curious about why two elves went in but only one came out? I was concerned for her ladyship, all worked up over dancin’. Seems I was right. Wait til I tell Viv!” Her maniacal cackle echoed in the room, and Orianna winced as the door slammed shut.

“I apologize, Inquisitor. That was incredibly forward of me. I won't happen again. I will do what I can to mitigate the damage Sera is likely to try and cause. Again,” he said, the color high in his cheeks. “I apologize.” He left, then, leaving her alone in the room. 

She stood there, completely at a loss for words, not knowing whether to scream or break into hysterical laughter. Sniffing, screaming at herself to not cry, not here, she barely noticed the door opening. She rubbed a hand over her face, sighing. “Coming to lecture me?” she asked miserably.

“Oh, no, Inquisitor,” the soft, lyrical voice replied. “I’ve come here to hopefully help us both.” It was Nara standing in the doorway, looking beautiful and hesitant. She was clothed in a simple dress, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. “I’m sorry to have intruded, but it seemed as if this was the only time I was going to catch you alone. Can we speak?”

Orianna bit back her first response, nodding silently to the elf and motioning to the seats along the wall. “You’re welcome to sit. What would you like to talk with me about?”

Nara took a seat, crossing her long legs gracefully and looking up at the Inquisitor with a slight smile. “Mating, Inquisitor, and how to properly ensnare your intended. I have noticed you are having difficulty with your pursuers, are you not?”

Oh. _Oh._ Well, this may not be as horrible of a conversation as she thought it would.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! Sorry this took so long, but I have this chapter finished and another halfway done!

Nara was simply a genius.

Orianna was kicking herself for not getting to know her sooner. As the two women sat and spoke about Elvhen customs and how to go about properly enacting them, she actually felt sorry for the woman sitting across from her. There were intricate, nuanced movements and games that had to be played to get the attention of your intended, and as they had literally years to court whomever they saw fit, the games were meant to last for a long while.

The Inquisitor did not have that kind of time.

Because of this, Nara simplified it, insisting that they could work with what they had. 

“Male elvhen are primal creatures. Typically the males make their intentions on a woman known, and he uses his skills to make sure that other males do not approach said female while they are….spending time together. Sexual or not.” The elf pushed her long blonde hair back from her eyes, gazing at the Inquisitor with a puzzled expression. 

“I’m sorry, Inquisitor,” she said softly, tilting her head. “Are you ill? The flush to your face is becoming deeper. Perhaps we should try this another day?”

Orianna waved her hand frantically. “No, no. It’s just...this dress is incredibly hot and...please continue.”

“Solas and Abelas are pursuing you. You are a strong female presence in this place, and they both recognize that. Usually Abelas would have to bow to Solas, as he was here first, but because of his hesitance Abelas sees an opening for a potential mate.” She gave a delicate shrug. “The elaborate rituals from our time would mean years of gifts, small touches, months of sexual pleasure, but you do not have years and it seems like both of them are puzzled on how to continue.”

“I’m sorry, did you say  _ months?! _ ”

Nara nodded. “We are very sexual creatures. A lover was not uncommon. To take many lovers was also not uncommon. It is the search for our one, our  _ vhenan, _ that keeps us vigilant. Our one must complement us, fit in our soul like no other. Once bound, urges quiet and focus only on our heart.”

Orianna frowned, plucking at her skirt absently. “That sounds very lonely.”

Nara laughed, the outburst seeming to surprise her as much as Orianna. “I apologize. No, Inquisitor, it was not a lonely existence. Nor was it empty. A lover was cherished while we were together, but sometimes the fit isn’t right. There is nothing wrong with that, and I’m sure that you humans have the same process. We live a very long time, and we fill our time with perfecting skills. Even the skills in the bedroom, for how are we to keep our  _ vhenan’s  _ attention if we do not know what to do?”

“Wh--what if you don’t have those skills? Bedroom skills, you know, well… I mean, practically. Reading them in a book is kind of like knowing what to do, right?” Orianna babbled, burying her face in her hands. 

Nara’s bright blue eyes widened at the Inquisitor’s question. “I’m sorry, are you implying you are untouched?”

“With the exception of that one kiss, yeah.”

“Then the game will be easier than I thought. Solas is aware of this, yes?”

“Probably as he practically tossed me away when Sera popped in.”

“Well, then, Inquisitor, it’s time we start the first part of our plan. You are going to need some different clothes, though.”

 

`````

 

Part one of Operation: Elvhen was for Orianna to wear clothing that would catch the attention of said male. Nara helped her pick out a beautiful yellow sundress, low cut and sleeveless, to wear when she visited Solas in the rotunda. 

Before her visit with the bald elf, however, she and Nara visited Abelas. The older elven female led her to the barracks where everyone was staying. “Abelas,” Nara called, pausing in the middle of the room and glaring at any other men that decided to come their way. “The Inquisitor had a question about the Well. I thought you might be the best to handle it.”

With a curt nod and a slight wink, Nara zipped away as Abelas sauntered up to her. “What question do you have, Inquisitor?” he asked, slipping an arm around her back to lead her to a private corner. He motioned for her to sit on one of the empty beds, taking a seat opposite her.

“When I try to access any information, I hardly get anything except a blinding headache. I can’t seem to get any better at it.” 

Abelas studied her for a minute, then sighed. “The information contained in the well was not meant for mortal minds. I suspect that you will need training, possibly months of it, to gain access to even the most rudimentary information without harming yourself. I can set aside some time a few times a week to help you meditate and harness that power if you wish.”

She nodded happily, beaming at the elf. “I would love that. And if I can do anything to help you, then please don’t hesitate to ask.”

He seemed surprised at her joyful response, though he nodded at her offer. “I will keep that in mind, Inquisitor. Thank you for coming to see me about the Vir’abelasan.”

“You’re welcome, though it’s really Nara who had the idea. She’s great, you know and---” She squawked as Nara practically dragged her from the barracks. “Hey!” she hissed, “what’s that for?”

Nara shook her head. “He is not interested in me; he’s interested in you.”

“But I’m not..I mean, I was going to talk with Solas...And Abelas is a nice, if slightly terrifying, elf. I bet you two would be great together.”

“Right now we are focused on making sure there isn’t a duel to the death over you. Let’s focus on that. Now. You sat on Abelas’ bed in the barracks, so I’m sure Solas will be able to tell. Just go in there and chat with him, move around, slight touches, but don’t let him touch you. It indicates you are fine with your current scent, and he should leave it be. If he’s even remotely interested, he will not, though I cannot guess as to what his reaction might be. You’re leaving tomorrow for the Emerald Graves, so I wouldn’t waste time.”

As Nara was speaking with her, they made their way to the rotunda where they could hear Dorian and Solas bickering with each other. The elf opened the door, slipping away again as if she were never there.

Straightening her back, Orianna moved into the round room, staring at the paintings for a few moments like she normally did before moving her gaze back to Solas. “Afternoon, Solas!” she said cheerfully, moving over to where he was painting. 

The elf stiffened at the sound of her voice, turning just slightly and nodding in her direction. He didn’t look at her, attention focused on the wall in front of him. “Inquisitor.”

She perched on the edge of his desk, watching him work. “I, uh, had a question about the Well and was wondering if you might be able to answer it for me.” She hopped off the desk and moved to stand beside him, gently touching his shoulder in a friendly gesture. “If you have time, that is. I wouldn’t want to bother you.”

He nearly pulled away at her touch, turning to fully look at her since she walked in. His gaze traveled over her before he met her eyes, and he frowned deeply as he breathed in. “I am quite busy right now, Inquisitor. Perhaps we can talk at a later time?” Even as he spoke, his hand reached up to absently smooth down an errant strand of hair.

The mage deftly avoided being touched, ducking under his arm and clasping her hands behind her back. She bit her lip, shifting from one foot to the other uncomfortably. “Oh, well, no. I wouldn’t want to bother you. I can just go ask Abelas if I need to.” She was feeling less than confident when Dorian cooed down at her.

“If you don’t go talk to that strapping piece of elvhen glory, I definitely will. Also, you look absolutely ravishing in that dress.”

Solas growled, pinching his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “We do not need your commentary, Master Pavus. The Inquisitor and I are trying to have a conversation.”

“Sounded to me like you were finished speaking with her. Something about not having the time? I am quite certain that’s what you were saying. I was just attempting to push her in the direction of someone who might have time. A girl can’t let a dress like that go to waste.” With that, Dorian disappeared from his perch at the edge of his library.

Well, that certainly made Orianna want to crawl into a hole and die. While Solas was occupied with whatever internal battle he was having, she decided to carefully sneak out of the rotunda. She was obviously doing this elvhen thing wrong. “Well,” she said, easing around the elf without touching him. “Emerald Graves tomorrow. If you want to go, there’s still a spot open. I-uh, just let Cassandra know by this evening. She’s prepping everything.” 

She was almost to the door when Solas looked up, eyes narrowing on her. “If Cassandra is prepping everything, what are you doing?”

“I told you, I had elvhen questions...Well stuff.” Her voice sounded less than steady as he stalked -- because that was the only word for it -- towards her. “But since you don’t have time, I’m going to get out of your way and let you do what you…..are doing.” 

Even as he was moving towards her, she slid into the hallway outside the rotunda. She had the almost irresistible urge to run, but part of her brain screamed that the dark look he was giving her would indicate he would give chase. 

Would that be such a bad thing?

She almost pivoted, almost bolted, when Cullen appeared behind her and nearly gave her a heart attack. 

“Inquisit---Oh. My, that’s a...lovely dress. Inquisitor.” The Commander’s cheeks turned bright red as he stumbled over his words. He gripped the paperwork in his hand a little tighter than needed, and the pages crumpled. “You are needed in the War Room when you have a moment. Leliana had something to ask you. I apologize if I interrupted...Maker, that is a bright color…”  Pointedly looking anywhere but Orianna, Cullen nodded to Solas who was hovering just out of arm’s reach from the two of them. 

“Perhaps you should head to the War Room, Commander. The Inquisitor and I were just finishing up a conversation. She will be there presently.” Solas inched closer to the two of them, crowding Orianna’s personal space without seeming too overbearing. 

“Actually, I think I’ll accompany Cullen to the War Room now. You said we would have to finish up this conversation later, didn’t you, Solas?” she chirped, peering behind Cullen to where Nara was giving her a small nod. She slid her arm into Cullen’s, dragging the Commander down the hallway.

She could feel Solas’ gaze on her back, but she didn’t turn around. She had a feeling that running away from this conversation was going to come back and bite her later.

One could always hope.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I have returned! The smut is coming, my loves. Just be a little more patient. Until then, have this small chapter as an offering!

Orianna dragged herself from the War Room three hours later, exhausted and hungry. So much for just one question, she thought ruefully, waving at Cullen as he headed off to do whatever it was he did in the evenings. She wasn’t even sure he ate half the time. Making a mental note to check on him later, she barely made it out of the hallway before she was dragged into a dark corner.

She let out an entirely undignified squeak as Nara shushed her. The taller woman grinned at her. “You are much better than I realized, Inquisitor. Your visit to Solas made definite waves. He’s been sparring with Abelas for the better part of the evening. No bloodshed, which is a bonus.”

Orianna frowned. “I don’t understand how that relates….”

“Oh, it relates. I don’t have time to explain it all to you, but the fact that he is searching for a vigorous exercise, especially with his rival, is a sign that he was not unmoved by your visit. In fact, he was very moved.”

The Inquisitor’s face heated, and she ran a hand through her messy hair. “Well, that’s good. I guess I’ll just keep that up whenever I get back. I’ll probably be gone for a month or so…”

The smile Nara had widened, and her eyes lit up with mischief. “Oh, Inquisitor, get some rest. I am certain your journey will be very interesting.” With that, the elf glided away with a small chuckle. 

She arched an eyebrow as the woman walked away, too tired to decipher the meaning behind her cryptic words. She easily avoided the nobles out and about in the main room. She was pretty sure there was some kind of platter in her room with breads and cheeses on it. As long as no one took it away, that would suffice for dinner before she collapsed in bed.

About halfway to her door, she noticed someone moving out of the corner of her eye. She nearly blasted them with ice before she found herself rather close to a pair of golden eyes.

“Seriously?!” she hissed up at Abelas, hopping back a step. “I’m going to have to put bells on all of you. You move like cats.”

His brows drew together in puzzlement for a moment, and he tilted his head. “Why do I remind you of a cat?” Before she could open her mouth to respond, he held up a hand. “No matter. I just wanted to inform you that I would be accompanying you and your party tomorrow into the Emerald Graves. I feel as if you might need an extra pair of hands.”

It wasn’t what he said, necessarily, that brought the scalding heat to her cheeks, it was how he said it. Purring, much like that cat she compared him to, and it completely threw her off balance. “W-why would you think that?”

His lips quirked, though the obvious amusement barely reached his eyes. “I have been sparring with your elven mage. He has been rather distracted lately. I can’t imagine why.” 

“Perhaps because I have been busy making sure you do not ravage the Inquisitor?” Solas’ voice growled from behind Abelas. 

Straightening, the Sentinel gave a half-hearted shrug as he turned to level a gaze at Solas. “It does not seem as if she is protesting.”

“Yes, well, I have business with the Inquisitor, and I would like to conclude it before she falls asleep.” Solas also said something else in elvish that Orianna couldn’t catch, though the reply from Abelas was obviously something Solas did not approve of, if the stormy glare he gave to the other elf was any indication.

Once Abelas vacated the area, with one last heated glance back at her, Solas turned his full attention to her. He cleared his throat and clasped his hands behind his back in his customary fashion. “I apologize about my earlier inability to speak with you. I have time now, if you are amenable to speaking with me.”

Feeling the tug of sleep at her mind, she rubbed her eyes and nodded. “Of course, Solas. We can… speak in the tavern or--”

“I would rather settle in the rotunda, if you don’t mind.”

She followed him back through the main room, rubbing her bare arms as the chill started seeping in. As she stepped into his preferred space, she blinked a few times to be sure that she was seeing clearly. 

He had a large platter of all kinds of fruits, breads, and cheeses on his desk, and there were more candles than usual flickering cheerfully in the area. “I thought you might be hungry after the meeting, so I took the liberty of having some things from the kitchen sent up. Please, help yourself.”

“Oh, thank you, Solas!” Fully awake now, she nearly hugged him before remembering herself and perching on the desk next to the platter. The first crisp bite of the strawberry lit up her taste buds, and her eyes rolled back in her head as she chewed quietly. Her delight was mirrored in the way the mark on her hand lit up and mingled with the firelight on the walls.

Solas, looking pleased with himself, hovered close for a few more moments before taking a seat in his chair. “You said you had questions?” he asked quietly, pulling her from her fruit-induced bliss.

“Mmhhmm,” she replied, plucking a piece of cheese from the plate before continuing. “I wanted to learn more. About the elvhen, customs and the like, but I’m having trouble dredging up the information. It brings on horrible headaches, and it’s like the information just slips through my fingers. Abelas said he would help me meditate, and I’m willing to try, but I thought -- since we haven’t really talked about it -- that I would ask you, too.”

He listened to her quietly, his gaze darkening when she mentioned Abelas. Leaning forward, he plucked a strawberry from the platter and studied it carefully. “I imagine meditating would net you some of the information you wanted. However, my theory is that you will be able to access more of the information in the Fade. Dreaming your way through it would probably be easier and more productive.”

She snorted, not very ladylike and nearly choking on her bread in the process. “Suggesting I sleep on it isn’t much better than meditating on it, Solas.” She met his gaze just as he carefully bit into the strawberry, suddenly feeling a little lightheaded as his tongue darted out to catch the small drip of juice that had escaped.

Boy, those candles were a great heat source.

His eyes glittered in what she would almost guess was amusement, and he shook his head with a low chuckle. “That is not necessarily true.” He stood, moving around the desk again to stand in front of her. “The Fade can teach many things,” he said quietly, his hand moving up to smooth her hair behind her ear. 

She could hear her pulse echo in said ear, and she hoped to the Maker hat he couldn’t hear how her pulse sped up when he got close. He stepped even closer and closed the distance between them. Just when she was certain he was going to kiss her, he moved his lips up to her forehead and pressed them there. “Sleep, Inquisitor,” he whispered, just as she felt his magic wash over her and push her into unconsciousness.


End file.
